Whigs - Black Lotus

The Whigs on Fuel TV. The shitty low-res video makes up for the crap sound. I don't know about you bastards, but this record has stuck with me through the summer.

Sports Also Suck

My New Orleans Saints, pre-season faves to win the NFC and go to the Super Bowl, are a dismal 4-6. They started out 0-4, won 4 in a row to raise hopes, and have dropped the last two to crappy teams. How are your favorite teams doing?

In related news, I'm first in fantasy league, sweeping the floor with my opponents every week.

Gabba Gabba Hey

We accept you, we accept you, we accept you, one of us.

Through your faithful lurking and wanton disregard of your day-to-day work responsibilities, you have demonstrated beyond any reasonable doubt that you are a complete bastard, and therefore a worthy addition to this organization.

Los Bastardos Unidos welcomes Mike Lurker. More or less.

The Presidential Timeline of the Twentieth Century

Certainly not as interesting as my dissertation, but along those same lines, here is the Presidential Timeline I've been working on. The big deal of it is the interactive timeline, which is still in development, but is now online. The part I worked on was the 'Educators' section. I would love Dave to look at it and give some feedback. Jay, you can look at it, but I don't care what you think.

The timeline is here.

And a couple of news items about it here and here.

Bacchus, Thoth, Krewe d'Etat, I'm on my way!

So tomorrow marks our annual sojourn to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. Oh wait. I used to live there! Its only been a sojourn since last year! You know, it really sucks to go there as a tourist. You have to find places to crash (usually on a floor) and you're always at the mercy of someone else's party. Having said that, it is still much, much better than not going. We'll see friends, catch some parades, eat crawfish, and get really, really drunk. Did I mention the drinking? Seriously though, although it cost us a lot to get airfare, etc., I am not yet psychologically ready to miss Mardi Gras. It's like telling a kid that Christmas is cancelled. And although I will be back in my classroom on Fat Tuesday, at least I'll still have the smell of vomit on my shoes and beautiful memories in my brain.